squirrellypoo

[squirrellypoo]

tumblr won't let me add a subject line to this draft but don't worry it's about anne rice

The idea that the Vampire Chronicles books are irrelevant to the TV and must not be factored into interpretation and analysis is very wrong. Here are some things I believe are true:

The TV show and the books (and the 1994 movie, for that matter) are different types of media with overlapping but not identical goals

The TV show has made a lot of adaptational changes that mean some parts of the books do not apply to the show

We can't be 100 percent sure exactly what the show will change or discard in future seasons, from books it hasn't yet adapted

But also,

The show is an adaptation of the books, and so even when the show is different from the books it is responding to and in dialogue with the books

The people who write the show reference the books all the time, and have taken pictures of the annotated copies of the books they're reading

Notable fans of the show have been sent copies of the books by the team that makes the show

The show runner wandered around SDCC in 2024 with a copy of one of the books

The actors talk about their connection to the books

I am rereading these books now, I am on Queen of the Damned at the moment, and one thing that's been very rewarding to me about this (other than that life is a steaming hellscape and any pleasure is to be snatched, however small) is to notice how the books have clearly influenced the show thematically and in terms of character even when things are not taken literally. In some ways it's maybe more correct to say that the show is a remix of the books, that the various elements of these books have been recombined to tell the story in a different way.

But it is the same story this show is telling, about how vampires cope with the condition of immortality, and obvious to me in both watching this show and following this fandom and reading these books that the books are not irrelevant to the show. They are deeply tied to the show. They absolutely are a valid part of interpreting the show. The issues are that a) they are not an essential part of interpreting it, and b) how they are used for interpretation matters.

Validity versus necessity

So, I work in a field where a lot of people will refrain from commenting on subject matter or sharing their opinions on the basis that they aren't specialists, and my response to this is always, like, that's very silly to me because you are a person and you have feelings, and your emotional and sensory and aesthetic reactions to things are just as valid as, like, people with specialist-level knowledge. I think having specialized training certainly helps me enjoy things more, in the sense that I get pleasure out of, I dunno, historical context or being able to compare things to something else I know about. But this is not the only level on which to enjoy something.

The TV show Interview With the Vampire and the Vampire's Two Boyfriends and Also the Vampire's Daughter and Some Guy the Vampire Met is like, a work of art on its own. You do not need any kind of specialist knowledge to enjoy this show for what it is simply on the level of its visceral pleasures: its dialogue, its costumes, its cinematography, the heaving bosoms of all these beautiful male actors.

It's also a deeper and richer experience, or at least a different experience, if you understand the various concepts underlying the show. The history of racism in the US South. The policing of same-sex desire. The history of popular music. How journalism works. Fashion history. What happened in Europe during the Second World War. Catholic theology. Vampire mythology. And, yes, Anne Rice's books the show is based on. Now, it's never going to be the case that everyone knows everything about everything in one artwork. Artworks are made to function on multiple levels of interpretation. Only some real heroes are going to access the show on all of these levels. This is what we call a rich text.

But I think it's important to make clear that these are all valid approaches to the show, and none of them are individually strictly necessary. Is it more important to know about the specific history of racism in the US South than the Vampire Chronicles as a book series, like, in general? Yes, although maybe less so if you don't live in the US. At the same time, neither of these is the only background information that is necessary to understand the show, both because the function of racism on the show doesn't require specialist knowledge to understand, and also because the show is a multivalent text that can be accessed on a lot of levels. Without knowing that interracial marriage was banned in Louisiana in 1910 specifically the show can still be appreciated for what it is. This is basically how popular art is designed to function.

It is perfectly valid and probably should be expected that people will interpret the show on the basis of the books. The show would not be called Anne Rice's if her books had nothing to do with it. Nobody is required to read her books for any reason, up to and including to understand this show. But that doesn't mean they're irrelevant to the show, or that they aren't part of how people are going to interpret it -- or speculate on it.

How it's done matters

So, this is probably an easier argument: it's wrong to insist that because something happened in the books, it will definitely happen on the show, or happen like that on the show.

It's also obnoxious to shut down other people's interpretations as if reading the books bestows some kind of superior knowledge, in the sense of, like, because I am 100 pages into Queen of the Damned after reading it for the first time once decades ago I somehow understand these TV characters better than someone who has never read them at all.

In general this is behavior we don't like in fandom. But it's not limited to book readers versus show watchers. We argue like this about nearly everything.

For me, this is always a problem of tone.

"Because [whatever] happened in the books, this is the only interpretation of [thing on the show]" is not a helpful way to comment. The people who made this show are aware that much of the audience does not know what happened in the books. If a comprehensive understanding of the books were the key to understanding the show, the show would be a failure. And likewise, this would be a failure of interpretation. I have actually never personally witnessed anyone saying this precisely, but I believe people get close.

"Given that [whatever] happened in the books, it stands to reason that [TV show interpretation]" is a totally inoffensive construction. It's offering an opinion, a point of view, one way to potentially understand the show.

Likewise, predicting what will happen on the show: drawing on what happens in the books is not a bad tool to use. There are obvious cases where the show's adaptational changes mean some things will not happen, but I don't think people who have read the books are trying to argue for those things, anyway.

But, to go back to where we started this, it's obvious that the show is informed by the books. The writers and the cast are referencing the books. The show is laden with direct and adapted writing from the series. Things are being foreshadowed, or used as Easter eggs. The level of faithfulness and literalism varies, but the things that happen in the show have, for the most part, been drawn or been mapped onto the beats in the novel series.

And it's painfully clear that this is continuing, not just because Rolin Jones walked around Comic Con last summer with The Vampire Lestat, and kept posing with it in publicity photos, you know, like a nutcase. But also because we have already been told that the next season follows the basic premise of this book, in terms of Lestat becoming a rock star, and responding to the publication of Interview With the Vampire, and sharing his fuller backstory. This is all basically telegraphed in the season 3 announcement.

So, again, speculating, or theorizing, or making educated guesses about how the content of The Vampire Lestat will become part of the show's fuller story is not inappropriate. It's like, basically what the people who make the show are hoping fans will do to stay engaged in their product. And, again, we don't know for sure exactly how these things will play out. So it's not rational to suggest that because something happens on the page in that book, it will definitely happen in the show. But we know things from the book will happen on the show, and this is as good a lens through which to view it as any.

To wrap up here, I want to reinforce the point I'm making through another approach to interpreting the show, that of historical reference. I gave a long list of lenses through which to view Interview With the Vampire above, and many of these included historical context. This is super important to the show, right? The plot, the characters, and the themes are all heavily dependent upon what happened in the real-life history the story is set against. That the story begins in 1910s New Orleans is not incidental. That the story's climax, so far, is staged in postwar Europe is not incidental. That episode 205 takes place in San Francisco in the 1970s is not incidental. And I'd argue that, although the show is set in the contemporary moment, the choice of 2022 (or now) as the setting for the framing device is not incidental, because the hyper-capitalist globalization symbolized by Dubai in 2022 carries thematic weight for the story. We all know this and agree that it's part of what makes the show good.

From time to time, however, I run into analysis that makes the blanket case that because something was true in one of these historical contexts, the same must be true of the show in a fixed interpretation. For example, a big one is citing that Louis is more feminine or occupying the wife role in his relationship with Lestat. I'm not touching this here, but I do want to make the case that historical precedent is a shaky basis for this interpretation as I've seen it applied. I've heard their relationship compared to "Edwardian marriage" and "placage marriage," so let's talk about these for a minute.

I'm not interested in disproving that these concepts are relevant to the Louis/Lestat relationship. I think they're both relevant, in that they are cohabitating in a way that resembles marriage, following a ritualistic plighting that the show itself makes clear is evocative of a wedding ceremony. Lestat then starts appearing in a wedding ring, which suggests or implies he thinks he's married. They do meet and start living together in the Edwardian era, which lasts form 1901 to 1910 (when Edward VII died) or 1914 (when World War One broke out), depending on how you feel about it. Placage marriage, meanwhile, is a maybe-mythical phenomenon of white men marrying Black (or, uh, mixed-race Haitian, or Creole) women in pre-Civil War Louisiana. This supposed phenomenon gets at the white/Black Creole interracial relationship that Lestat and Louis obviously have, right.

But also, these guys are not married. They can't be married because they're both men, and also interracial marriage, or even cohabitation, is illegal at this time in Louisiana. Also, placage marriage, which as far as I can tell was probably never even a thing, was supposedly taking place anywhere from 60 to 100 years before these characters would have even met.

So neither of these things fully applies, right? And yet they are both good reference points. Louis, for example, is seen at one point reading Carpenter's Marriage in Free Society, from 1894, so, roughly contemporary with his getting together with Lestat. (He is reading it in the 1930s, however, so some time after the fin de siecle period when it was written, and after a lot of social changes that subtly shifted gender roles in the US.) And placage marriages may or may not have been real, or contemporary to Louis' experience, but the myth of them may have shaped expectations or projections about their relationship.

Interpreting this relationship, or the show's themes, through the lens of these concepts is a good reading, because it pulls out concepts that are definitely there and meant to be analyzed.

On the other hand, it would be kooky to suggest that the application of these concepts to the show is so rigid and definite that the only way to view Louis is as the wife in a heteronormative relationship. Because, first of all, there is no wife in the relationship, in the fixed legal status of marriage that the show's historical grounding wants us to understand.

And, second, and this is really the main thing I'm driving at, the show is fiction. There weren't just no gay marriages, or interracial marriages, in 1910s Louisiana. There were also zero vampires. The point of the show is not that it is a faithful representation of what it was like to live in 1910s New Orleans, or 1940s Paris, or 2020s Dubai. It's an effective and evocative depiction of these settings that draw on meaningful references and citations to create a convincing artwork. But it's not a historical tract. The real Tom Anderson died in 1931. (His mustache was even worse, by the way.) The story is hopping around, picking and choosing where it wants to be literal and where it wants to be inventive. This is exactly what it is doing with Anne Rice's books.

Again, I want to be really clear that I think these are good reference points to talk through as tools of interpretation. It's the overly definitive readings that I'm rejecting here.

And when it comes to these books, this holds true: it would be incorrect to cite them as a definitive roadmap for the show, or an indicator of what exactly will happen. And yet at the same time, it's pretty much inarguable that they are a major reference point for the show, and a useful tool for interpretation and analysis. They are not irrelevant. They are deeply relevant and applicable!!!! They just aren't definitive. You can ignore them if you want. That's fine!!! They're deeply weird and kinda icky. There's other ways to like this thing than reading the source material.

But just like, stop pretending you're not in the fandom for Howard Allen's Gay Monster Sex Romp. What are we even doing. It's perfectly fine to talk about the fucking books so long as no one is completely asinine about it. In conclusion hit "Post now" okay fine I will

[squirrellypoo]

Sands of Time (IWTV fic - human au)

Now half way through.

Premise: Louis realises that he's believed a lie for the past 10 years, believing Lestat had a role to play in a accusation against Louis that almost cost him his degree. He also believed it was Armand that saved him.

Ten years later, Daniel reveals the truth to Louis and he goes to find Lestat at the last known address anyone had for him. He finds Lestat in a destitute state living in a rundown council flat, with no amenities and no furniture. Just a rotting armchair and a battered keyboard.

Unravelling their past to find out where it all went wrong, there are chapters covering their early romance as students in London, living in the house rented by professor of investigative journalism, Daniel Molloy. Other housemates include Claudia and Madeleine, and Armand.

Back to the year 2019, when Louis finds Lestat, he tries to make amends, including encouraging Lestat to attend the ten year anniversary get together arranged by the former housemates.

Revelations at the reunion will stir up spectres from the past and then, in the new year, 2020, a group find themselves once again, living under one roof when the covid 19 pandemic triggers a lockdown.

There will be angst, hurt/comfort, reprisals and sorrow... and a lot of love.

Not too late to come on board ... next 2 chapters will explore Christmas and New Year 2006/7 in New Orleans with Louis, while Lestat will be hanging out with the de Romanus family, and then, the reunion, where previous housemates, 'friends' and associates gather for an eventful night in Covent Garden.

Chapter one is here: Sands of Time chapter 1

Latest chapter (10/20) is here: Sands of Time chapter 10

[squirrellypoo]

please do share more about lestat learning english from a sailor (who tops him, i gather). you're like the only writer who can write louis or lestat with other people and still make it hot to me (though of course your writing them together tops everything. no pun intended.)

(x)

Oh! Hahaha, yeah! It's one I've had for a while, and I have it briefly pencilled into the outline of the Lestat POV fic set after Ungodly Hour, but it was kind of shook out after re-reading TVL and thinking a lot about a few things? I've mentioned it on here before, but I'm a little obsessed with the exchange between Armand and Lestat in the book where Armand tells Lestat that nobody ever loved either of them enough to teach them anything, and that kind of thematic marriage of education as an act of love that really goes through the series, but particularly that book, which feels really unique to me as a thematic union?

It's something that particularly excites me, because I'm really fascinated by the fact that Lestat could be resentful of educated men as a result - in fact I think typically in fiction, characters like Lestat usually are - but it's genuinely the opposite. He's attracted to intelligent, well-educated men. More than attracted! He falls in love with them! From Louis to Nicki to David in the books, but I'd even argue Armand, where the attraction there begins as a result of both Armand's beauty and what Lestat perceives as vampiric knowledge (and I think there’s kind of an interesting beat with Lestat becoming less interested in him when he realises Armand doesn’t actually have that knowledge).

So yes! On the one hand, my head is often there, but on the other, I do think Lestat needs to have had a degree of - - mm, not sexual healing, because I don't think he's ever actually had that, but I guess sexual reclamation before he meets Louis, and I don't think that can just involve women or topping men, especially because I do read Lestat's 'You can be on top' line on their wedding night as literal (I know plenty of people disagree with me, and you're welcome to, but regardless. That's how I see it.)

(This isn't fic, but it's not not fic, and please know it's pretty sloppy, haha)

SO, I kind of like this idea that he was mostly with women when he and Gabrielle were traveling, especially after Nicki dumps him so brutally and Gabrielle's sort of divorcing herself from her own womanhood as she leaves Lestat for longer and longer periods of time. To me, I think he's probably looking for lovers who can mother him better than Gabrielle in her absence following the traumas of Magnus, then Armand, then the break-up with Nicki, and while I think he probably is intimate with men still, I think it's rare, and I think he'd always be pitching, so to speak.

The long sleep is obviously harrowing in and of itself, but I think being woken by Marius and taken to the Greek Islands probably feels like something close to a fresh start, or at least a way Lestat can try and pretend he's stepped out of the bear trap of his own trauma, and it's especially something because Marius is teaching him things! Sharing things and wanting him to learn, and Armand's just taught him (both a century ago and minutes ago) that that's something that means someone loves him! And I think he loves the islands! He's not there for very long, and he’s mostly holed up with Marius of course, but I think when he gets his chance he swans around and relishes in the glow of this new life so far away from his old one, and I think he fucks around the villages a little, and probably with more men again now, with the distance and the comfort and the look and the sound and the language of them so different to any of the men he left behind in Paris.

I think he's probably enjoying being pampered and the centre of attention, because he's Lestat, and maybe one of them eats him out, which isn't something anyone's ever done for him before, which is so good and feels like - - something.  So he contemplates it with this sweet and eager man, and maybe they make plans to see each other again, but nothing further happens because he drinks from Akasha and everything goes to hell, and suddenly he’s on a boat! Hidden in a crate to be lurched up into the cargo hold because he’s a vampire and it’s the only way to ensure light won’t spill through a window and find him.

But still! He needs to eat, y’know? He’s too restless for a long sleep, even though it’ll be four, five weeks til they arrive in the new world, and he has no idea what to expect from America, and he can’t speak a word of English, but every night he clambers out of his crate to hold the sea air in his long-dead lungs and find a feed. He can’t exactly hunt among the humans every night without causing alarm, so he tries to balance it all between the rats in the hold, the cabin boys who lurk close to the hatch, and some nights he creeps up onto the deck to chase the seabirds that dance around the hull, but only once does he eat a passenger. An odious man with a pipe and ugly thoughts of a girl barely fifteen who he means to steal into the cabin of.

(And it’s bloody, that one. Lestat tears out his throat and stomps on his cock and pushes his eyeballs so far back in their sockets they pop before he throws the mangled remains of him overboard.)

Nobody seems to care much though, and so he’s not sure when this shipman notices him, but he does, because Lestat starts to hear his thoughts. Jumbled words in a language he doesn’t understand that always seem sort of amused and always seem aimed at him, and it’s not until the second week on board that this man slips down into the cargo hold and finds him. He’s older in appearance at least, but not by much. Has maybe a decade on Lestat’s physical age, his face streaked with grime, his features dark and craggy, but handsome somewhere beneath it all, and when he starts to talk, his voice is low and rough, and all Lestat can do is hold up his hands, say Je suis vraiment désolé, je ne parle pas anglais, and the guy says something that ends with the word Frog.

“You,” the man says slowly, pointing at him, and Lestat nods, understanding, before the man points up above them to the deck, and says something that has Lestat blinking back at him. Saying:

“Je ne fais pas semblant, monsieur, je ne parle vraiment pas anglais.”

The man frowns, and Lestat eases his own nerves by smiling charmingly back at him, wondering vaguely if he should eat him, if he even could? Would he taste of ship work and sea air? That could be nice, Lestat supposes, but his neck is rather greasy, he thinks, eyeballing it, when the man suddenly sniffs, fists his hips, looks back at him with an exasperated look.

His gaze carries past Lestat, to the crate he’s been sleeping in, before he looks back at Lestat. He points at Lestat, then it, then presses his palms together, lifts them beside his head, tilting his neck towards them, and making a loud, nasal sound with his nose.

Lestat stares at him, as the man lifts his head again, repeating the gesture – pointing at Lestat, the crate, then - - ah, yes! Pretending to snore!

“Oui,” Lestat says, pointing at the crate. Yes, he sleeps here! What a quick-thinking man! He looks back at him, and the monsieur is staring at him, almost surprised that Lestat has admitted it with such enthusiasm.

“Okay,” he says, and Lestat nods.

“Okay,” he echoes, the words clunking out of his mouth, and at the sound of it, the man looks almost amuse. He seems to think for a moment, take Lestat in, before he exhales, gestures to himself again, says:

“Abel.”

Which - - oh! He means him! Lestat nods, suddenly delighted.

“Lestat.”

The man - - Abel - - he squints back at him, like he’s trying to tell if Lestat’s telling the truth, and so Lestat says it again, hand to his chest, Lestat, before he glides over, pressing a hand to Abel’s chest, which the other man quickly bats away. Lestat’s unphased, says: Abel.

Abel looks up at him, says something else in English that Lestat can’t comprehend, before he tosses up his hands, and then he turns on his heel, climbs back up to the deck, and just - - leaves him. And it’s a swell of emotion of course – the sense that he should’ve killed him, that he could reveal him, could pry open his crate in the daytime and let the sunlight flood in, and Lestat reaches for his mind, but he can’t make sense of the language. No, the only sense he can make of the man is that he’s quiet, that his hands are always red and aching from rope burn, that he’s planted his feet on more countries than even Lestat, but never France, no, and Lestat doesn’t know why he lets him live that first night beyond the fact that it’s the first time someone has spoken to him in two weeks.

Still, he’s only half expecting it when Abel comes back the next night after Lestat has fed on a wary seagull, the man holding a ship lantern and a frayed wad of notepaper and a little bag of things he’ll soon learn involves a map and a pencil and a children’s word book borrowed from a passenger, and Lestat’s not entirely sure what to expect when Abel lays it over another crate he means to use as a desk, but he peers into his mind and sees only intent. So Lestat sits beside him, and Abel, gruff, with cracked hands, starts to teach him.

And it becomes a habit, every night after the passengers are rounded up for bed, Abel steals back down to the cargo hold with a plan and few words, and it’s just - - it’s the sort of school Lestat had always wanted. Not long lectures littered with personal history, the sort Marius had liked to soliloquy, but words and letters and a pencil in his hand, and Abel was patient in a way Lestat had never known. Gruff, yes, but warm, and ever exasperated, of course – Lestat knows he is ever exasperating – but Abel would never get angry. No, Abel would have Lestat repeat words and change tones and pronunciations, and he’d adjust Lestat’s grip on the pencil, and his hand would be so big, so firm, so hot atop his own, that Lestat had found himself deliberately mishandling it just so Abel would fix it.

And he could hear it. Could see it in Abel’s ever open head, his mind a window for Lestat to press his nose to, and in it was a dutied marriage and a dead child, then worse, a man, a lover, gone the way Nicki did, then years at sea to escape, and beneath it, boys he’d loved but could too rarely bring himself to touch, so Lestat touched. Lestat would lean over until their shoulders pressed atop the crate they used as a table, and Lestat would let their knees knock when they sat opposite one another, would let their fingers brush when he plucked an apple from his hand and learnt this English word for une pomme, and Abel would never flinch. Would never let his eyes dart, would never show that he’d felt it at all. Would just exhale the closest thing to a laugh he ever shared with Lestat, and tell him America would eat him alive.

“Not if I don’t eat it first,” Lestat took to saying, and Abel would give him a look that he tried to make disapproving but always just looked hopeful, which gave Lestat dreams of staying aboard. Of travelling port to port with this growling stranger, his blunt-nailed, crack-knuckled teacher, this man who offered without expectation, and Lestat could pay him, and maybe one night he tries to. Offers him some of the jewellery he’s brought with him, stuffed into a pouch in his crate, but Abel doesn’t want it, and maybe it’s then that Lestat realises that Abel’s lonely too.

Maybe it has Lestat touching him softer, more intentionally, and maybe it’s when Lestat’s hand touches his elbow, ever so gently, in thanks, that Abel’s mask finally cracks. When his eyes clench and a mournful sound tears from his throat, and he leaves Lestat early that night. Disappears up the hold to the deck as Lestat watches him depart, and he’s not sure what to expect, but the hard grasp of loneliness finds him that night and he climbs back into his crate to weep himself to sleep.

Still, Abel comes back, and maybe they pretend it’s nothing until they’re a night from port, an Abel’s brought beer down from the kitchens to celebrate, and they both get a little drunk, and Abel’s trying to teach Lestat how to ask for directions from the dock, and Lestat just - - looks at him. Looks at this man he’s spent the last four weeks with, looks at the man who’s taught him this language of doorknobs and obscenities, and he meant it when he said it was all he ever wanted, and he thinks - -

Well.

Lestat doesn’t think. No. Lestat put a hand on Abel’s knee, and slides it up, inch, by honest, tender inch.

And Abel looks at him, and Lestat can see how tight his throat is, can hear his rabbit heart, can see his pants, too quickly straining, and Abel exhales, but he doesn’t move. Lets Lestat slide his hand further up, lets him rise from his seat, lets Lestat swing a thin leg over his hips, but doesn’t touch him, even as Lestat leans down to softly kiss his chapped lips.

“Our last night together, mon cher,” Lestat whispers, looking at Abel through his lashes as the other man’s eyes darken. “Won’t you take me to bed?”

And he feels it, Abel swallow, feels it even more when Abel brings a hand up to skim Lestat’s hip, dropping it away almost before Lestat can realise it. He shakes his head, tries for a joke, tilting his head at Lestat’s crate.

“Don’t know if you can call that a bed,” he says, and Lestat tilts his head back towards him, feels his own heart start to hammer at Abel’s sad, craggy face. So generous, his seafarer, his teacher, and tonight, his lover.

And Lestat climbs off him. Strips off his clothes, watching as Abel’s gaze darts up, looks away, back up, away, as Lestat climbs over the wall of it. A little breathless now that he’s nude, just like he was - - no. Stop. And he closes his eyes as he lifts a hand, sucks on his fingers, wetting them with spit, and he knows he wants this. Knows he wants it so much, that he misses being so lovingly filled, even if there are memories pacing at the wall of his consciousness, and he spreads his trembling legs, when suddenly his hand is pulled out of his mouth and his fingers are doused wetly, and Lestat blinks his eyes open. Looks up to find Abel red-cheeked, watching him, pouring some of the beer on Lestat’s fingers.

“This’ll be - - slicker,” Abel says, voice a little rough, and when Lestat stares, he just shrugs, says softly: “Make it easier.”

And that - - oh. When was the last time Lestat had someone who wanted to treat him softly like this? He wets his lips, cock twitching, chest aching.  

“Will ah - - will you do it for me, monsieur?”

Abel works his mouth, then suddenly nods, dousing his own fingers in beer before climbing into the crate, dropping a hand between Lestat’s legs, pressing a rough finger there. He checks Lestat’s face, and Lestat blinks hard, and Abel rubs, before he breaches him, and oh, it’s slow. All of it. Has to take a half hour for Abel to get three fingers in, him tentative, Lestat tight, but Abel was a patient teacher, and he’s patient here now too, gentler than Lestat can remember anyone ever being with him, and when he finds his prostate, it’s stars atop stars. An eternal splendid heaven that has him breathlessly close to coming on Abel’s patient hand alone, but he doesn’t want that, not now, not with his last night with his seafarer, and he pulls him closer, reaches for his cock, slick with beer, guiding him towards him, and he pushes in, and Lestat won’t close his eyes. Won’t close them to let any face that isn’t the panting, honest, kind one atop him fill his gaze, won’t let anyone claw their way into this moment, because he is in no tower, no church, no tiny apartment, no theater, no, he is here beneath a man who he knows has never set foot in the city that killed him, and Abel looks at him like he can’t quite believe he’s allowed to have him, and Lestat thinks you can, Lestat thinks you can because you waited for me to want you too, because you let me decide, because you gave without expectation, Lestat thinks you would deny yourself wanting me, but I won’t deny you, you can have me, you taught me, and Lestat thinks it’s not right, for someone with skin as rough as this to touch so softly, and he knows he’s weeping as he wraps his legs around Abel’s waist, his arms around his shoulders, as he pulls him in close as his cock buries itself to the hilt, and Abel says:

“You’re alright, you’re alright, love, oh, I don’t know how you’re real,” as he presses chapped lips to the corner of Lestat’s mouth, and Lestat thinks this man has made him real these last weeks. That this, with him, is a soft entry into a new world, and oh, he hopes its one that will be as kind to him as Abel has.  

[squirrellypoo]

Is this what gang members feel when they see their tags out on the street??

[squirrellypoo]

HUNDREDS OF BEAVERS (2022) dir. Mike Cheslik (official website of the movie)

[squirrellypoo]

by Angstosaur

This is a silly crossover between Interview with the Vampire and True Blood.

Written in a day as a birthday gift for the wonderful Melissa (squirrellypoo) who supports fic writers so wonderfully and is so incredibly supportive of us here and elsewhere.

This happens in the realm of my fic ‘The Vampire Detective Agency’. Lestat is not Louis’s maker, they are vampires and work as private detectives in New Orleans.

Words: 3725, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Interview with the Vampire (TV 2022), True Blood (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M, M/M

Characters: Lestat de Lioncourt, Louis de Pointe du Lac, Pam Swynford De Beaufort, Eric Northman

Relationships: Lestat de Lioncourt/Louis de Pointe du Lac, Eric Northman/Pam Swynford De Beaufort

Additional Tags: little to no plot, Sex, Lots of Sex, Louis and Lestat - Freeform, Lestat/Eric/Pam, Louis/Eric/Pam, Lestat/Louis/Pam/Eric, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Not Canon Compliant

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It’s my birthday today and my friends are so lovely and talented that I’ve been written not one but TWO steamy fics!? I’m the luckiest girl at the vampire mansion! 🥹

First, I woke up to this PWP from @riley-beautrelle where Loustat get stuck in an elevator/lift and oh dear, however will they pass the time??? 😈🔥

http://archiveofourown.org/works/64027321

And then my friend @angstosaur just wrote me the most amazing IWTV x True Blood crossover fic with Loustat celebrating Louis’s birthday with a surprise visit to Fangtasia with a full VIP experience from Eric and Pam! 🔥😝

http://archiveofourown.org/works/64152184

These are both so perfect, so hot, and so sweet! Thank you guys so much!! 🥰🫶

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Last night my friends surprised me with a Lestat cake they DECORATED THEMSELVES! Seriously, look at this work of beauty!!?

My birthday’s not til Tuesday, and his crotch was delicious, thank you. 😌

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I was bullied by the group chat into getting stickers made and they’ve just arrived! 🫣😝🙃 They’re 6x9cm (2 3/8 x 3 1/2 in) and on high quality vinyl that doesn’t curl like the shitty RedBubble stickers…

DM me if you want one, they’re £2 plus shipping (£1.65 in UK / £2.80 ROW) - payment via PayPal.

(Cat is not for sale.)

Our favourite cryptid and 15min on my drawing app… [reference video here]

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Our favourite cryptid and 15min on my drawing app… [reference video here]

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Won’t Someone Think of The Guigonettes??

Nobody talks about how their lives were ruined when the Theatre burned. 😞

The Theatre des Vampires existed their entire lives! It was their constant source of joy! They made friends there! They felt belonging!

It never even occurred to them that it just might not exist someday… 😞

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News At Six 1986 Meets Sam Reid! ❤️🌟🤴🏼📺

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One of the many incredible people we met on our set day was Sam Reid - Mr Dale Jennings himself! ❤️🤴🏼

As he is the male lead of The Newsreader, I must admit that some nerves bubbled inside when I first stepped into the newsroom and he waved my way down the hallway. In full costume as Dale, it was a very heady experience; like he had leapt out of the telly. The second he was finished talking to the camera crew, he came into Helen’s old office (where Michael Lucas and Michelle Lim Davidson has taken us) and shook hands with Mum and I, warmly welcoming us into the space. My nerves disappeared from there on, he was just lovely!

In our first exploration of the newsroom, Sam helped Michael and Michelle show us around. It was just us, Emma Freeman and a few camera people; a surreal yet beautifully close moment. He has such a huge fan base, so I knew how truly lucky I was to have this individual moment with him. Sam is a brilliant holder of knowledge, and was excited to explain the process of how the old computer monitors worked, through iPads being placed inside the screen. He also searched his brain for any history he could remember of the building itself, and the thrill of having his expertise called upon lit up in his eyes.

When we were filming our scene (Cheryl’s hens night, S03E05), he checked on how we were going, and even got a special job! You all might have seen Emma Freeman post a video of the cast and crew doing The Nutbush in the newsroom last year. With so much delight, I can say that this was on my set day! Mum and I are in the video in the back row! As for Sam, he was perched on a chair, holding Emma’s phone to record the dance. Dale’s actor got to be a cameraman!

I feel so privileged to have met Sam twice now; first on set, the second at the Season Three ACMI premiere. He played a significant role in making both of these days so special and memorable. I even share a unit still with him too; funnily enough, mirroring his actions in the background! Thank you to Sam for being such a wonderful and intelligent human! I’m so grateful for him for the magic he helped create that day! 🌟

📸: Michael Lucas (Image One), Jane Zhang (Image Three)

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It’s Mardi Gras! Which also means…

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Please, everyone needs to watch the full edit someone made to this song because it is PERFECTION.

Interview with the Vampire 1.07

I'm Not Calling You A Liar - Florence + the Machine

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The song is “Too Much” by Dove Cameron 🤌 [Spotify]

My contribution to the fandom

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My iwtv discord held a festive card exchange for the third year running and I wanted to up my game a little this year, so I designed a card that I could add scraps of my Wolfkiller cloak to.

The idea came first, but then before I could actually start it, I got really sick with a string of opportunistic infections in November and December. But this proved fortuitous because I got a new iPad and Apple Pencil for Christmas, which meant I could make the printed art look a little less awful (be gentle, I make no claims at being an artist). So, it’s less of a “festive card” and more of a “winter card” (with apologies to the Aussies & Brazilians).

I made two versions of Lestat, facing down more wolves in the Auvergne snow, one with his cloak, and a special version without it.

It’s the latter that I got printed onto cards (with a message inside and on the back), and when they arrived I cut out little Wolfkiller cloaks using my leftover velvet and faux fur and glued these onto the cards.

I was waiting to post this until everyone’s arrived, and it was so funny to hear that the first thing everyone did was lift up the cloak to see if his bare ass was out! 😂🥶

I also took the opportunity to use my custom VL stamper on all the envelopes, too! Because of course I did.

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A Glance At A Very Big Newsreader Secret! 🌟📺

(And happy birthday to our leading man Sam Reid too! Hoping he has had a beautiful day today, from Newsreader fans everywhere. Thank you for your wonderful hospitality on the day, Sam! 💖🤴🏼)

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In one of my first posts I did after revealing my very special Newsreader experience, I spoke briefly of how all the televisions in the office functioned; through each of them being wired to a control centre feeding the footage to them. This control centre is in fact a secret room, which is hidden in between the walls of Dale and Lindsay’s offices, behind the whiteboard. This room is never seen on camera and has been concealed from audiences, until today!

In a News At Six 1986 exclusive, I am inviting you into the walls of the hidden control room! When Michael Lucas led Mum and I into Dale’s office, I was astonished to see one of the walls open, and a dark room inside. What was this magical and mysterious sorcery! A lovely bloke greeted us, and welcomed us inside. Lining one wall was tables covered in laptops, with cords going every which way, and each laptop was playing all sorts of footage.

You might recognise the clip of Helen furthest away. This was the bulletin she did in S03E03 as she broke the news of the Tiananmen Square massacre on Public Eye. This was played on the laptop, then fed to the televisions above the whiteboard. We get a good glimpse of this clip in the scene, as Dale watches it with a mixture of frustration and awe.

It was so cool not only getting to see this scene being filmed, but also getting a very early sneak peek into Helen’s Public Eye programme too, and being invited into this secret space. Looks like the secret is out now! I hope you all are just as awestruck by having this knowledge now, as I am too. It really has added another layer to my understanding of how this show comes together from a technical perspective. It’s truly such a clever show all around!